Double Or Nothing
by WickedGame
Summary: Rory Gilmore is like a cup of coffee... Logan tells us how he fell in love, and what he is going to do now that he knows. Oneshot, written right after the airing of The Perfect Dress.


**Double Or Nothing**

_a/n: This is my very first Gilmore Girls fic, and may be my last. I am not the wittiest person by far, so they intelligent humor spoken by the characters in GG is probably far beyond me. I do not own Gilmore Girls nor it's characters. This is a one shot monologue from the POV of one Logan Huntzberger. This was written after the episode "The Perfect Dress", and before the episode "Just like Gwen and Gavin"._

Rory Gilmore is like a cup of coffee.

I know, I know, please bear with me. I am going somewhere with this, I promise you.

I am staring at my coffee, and it reminds me of her. And not only because the girl has a serious coffee addiction, but because in some ways, she is just like coffee. Her hair is the color of it, and she almost smells like it. But it is not only that. She was steaming hot when I met her, all passionate and indignant on behalf of her friend, then she just remained hot. And eventually, she became just the right temperature for me. But then, eventually, it was like my cup of Rory coffee got cold, and then it was gone.

See? I told you I was going somewhere with this.

I had no clue how to go about loving someone, really I didn't. At least, not loving someone in any matter other than familial. I had never loved anyone I dated. I guess you could make a good argument based on the fact that I was basically one of those emotional fuckwits girls like to date and then write self-help books about. All I had ever learned was that money would solve about eighty-five percent of my problems, and that my good name and looks would take care of the rest. These were the lessons I learned from my father. Well, that and the fact that he believed in being number one at everything no matter what the cost. And my mother never taught me anything but her belief that a shot of single-malt scotch will cure what ails you. I did not have the best role models as you can see. I was never taught about how to treat a woman right. Sure, wine her and dine her and find the proper one to make my wife and the mother of my children; but never how to treat her right, to do right by her. I was never taught how to hold onto something emotionally precious. And I was never taught how to even recognize love, even when love gave me a solid right hook. This is where everything went wrong, where I went wrong, and when I lost the girl whom this cup of coffee reminds me of.

I guess the green-eyed monster and a good dose of my parent's lessons were the main contributors to my appalling behavior the night Rory and I fought. I had counted on my good name and good money to scare that writer, but he just turned up his nose at it as if to give it a giant flip of the bird. He did not give a crap who or what I was, except that I was the one who had gotten out of my car acting like and ass and I had remained that way the rest of the night. Then I went and had more alcohol than I should have, thanks to my dear ol' mums great lessons.

I fucked up.

I know it.

I don't need you to tell me that.

So we did not speak, and we did not see each other. But there was this hole in me. I know it sounds melodramatic, but  
I have never felt so empty before. But then, to get my sister off my back I told her Rory and I were over. Open mouth; insert foot. I only made things worse. I should have known Rory would find out. I should have never told Honor that. You can't believe how many times I hit myself over the head in regards to those words. No really, you wouldn't.

I was sitting here in this very same coffee shop when I finally had it all figured out. I had not slept consistently in days, and I had rear-ended someone earlier. Finn sat across from me and told me he could only see one thing. He said, 'Logan, my friend, I assure you of one thing: you are lovesick for the fair Rory Gilmore. And now you have no clue just how to woo back the fair maiden'.

I thought about his words all night, and into the next day. I picked up a picture Rory had taken of us one night, and as I looked at it, I realized Finn could not have been more right. The drunk sucker had hit the nail on the head. I had fallen in love for the very first time, and it hurt. It hurt bad. This was the specific reason I had avoided falling in love at all, I knew it would hurt.

Shakespheare once wondered at what was better, love or its loss. The love hurt, but knowing she was gone hurt more.

So damn the money, and damn the name. Damn every lesson I have ever learned, and damn every one I have not. I am going to tell that girl I love her, in every way I know how. I am going to get her back. You can bet on that, double or nothing.

**The End**


End file.
